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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25982053">Day in the Sun</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/voiceless_terror/pseuds/voiceless_terror'>voiceless_terror</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Archives Gang is Happy for Once, Day At The Beach, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Multi, Suggestions of an Archive Polycule, but just a hint</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:33:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,128</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25982053</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/voiceless_terror/pseuds/voiceless_terror</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Speaking of your men,” Melanie sat up and whipped off her sunglasses, squinting intensely at the shoreline. “What exactly are they trying to do? Drown him?”</p>
<p>The Archives Gang has a Beach Holiday. That's it, that's the fic.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>187</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Day in the Sun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I still think we should have a rematch,” Basira grumbled, flipping the page of her novel and adjusting her sunglasses. “Tim was cheating.”</p>
<p>“How can you cheat at volleyball?” Sasha replied incredulously. “Besides, you guys could’ve continued if <em> someone </em> hadn’t spiked the ball <em> directly </em> at Jon’s head.”</p>
<p>“I said I was sorry!” Melanie flipped over on her towel to face Sasha. “I didn’t mean to hit it that hard. But you’ve got to admit he made a funny little noise.” Daisy snickered beside her. “I think I want that as my text notification.”</p>
<p>Sasha imperiously flipped her braids and crossed her legs, basking in the sunshine. “Well, I was the referee. And you lost, fair and square.” Basira made a noise of discontent, but Daisy put a hand on her shoulder, grinning easily. “Don’t take it personally. You know she’s going to defend <em> her men</em>.”</p>
<p>“I take offense to that,” Sasha sniffed, though she didn’t disagree. “Basira, can you pass me a beer? Mama needs a little sip.”</p>
<p>“Sure, but never say that again.” She passed the bottle and Sasha grinned, doing her famous ‘teeth trick’ to pop the lid.</p>
<p>“I worry for your teeth every time you do that,” Basira stated without heat. “But I’m still very impressed.”</p>
<p>“Even I can’t do that,” Daisy groused. “I’m in awe of your skill, James.”</p>
<p>“Speaking of your men,” Melanie sat up and whipped off her sunglasses, squinting intensely at the shoreline. “What exactly are they trying to do? <em> Drown </em>him?”</p>
<p>The others followed her eye-line, seeing the outline of the three men where the waves met the shore. Jon was in between Tim and Martin, holding on to them for dear life and jumping every time water trickled over his feet. Tim was laughing, and Martin was holding back a smile as he tried to coax Jon further out. Jon shook his head with vehemence, but the two kept urging him forward.</p>
<p>“Oh, Jon <em> hates </em>the water,” Sasha said, her eyes widening as she reached for her phone. “Poor thing!”</p>
<p>“Then why are you recording-“</p>
<p>“Ahh!” Jon screeched as another cold wave hit his feet and reached to his ankles. “Stop stop stop, I want to go, I don’t like this-"</p>
<p>“It’s not that cold, Jon,” Martin soothed, attempting to hold in his laugh while squeezing the man’s arm. “You’ll get used to it. If we just go further out, you can bob in the waves!”</p>
<p>“<em>Absolutely not. </em>”</p>
<p>“Boss, I thought you grew up in Bournemouth,” Tim interjected, still pulling Jon further out as he struggled in his grip. “Shouldn’t you like the ocean-"</p>
<p>“I was busy doing <em> other things</em>, Tim. Not diving into rough waters and <em> Christ </em>that’s cold! Martin, make it stop-"</p>
<p>At this point Tim and Martin bore a good part of his weight as he attempted to climb out of harm’s way. Tim began to cackle as Martin struggled to keep his balance with Jon hanging on like a limpet.</p>
<p>“Hey Martin- remember that game we used to play as kids? Y’know, the one, two, three, 'wheee' one?”</p>
<p>“What’s that?" Jon was ignored.</p>
<p>“Y’know Tim, I think might remember that one,” Martin replied, playing along. Another wave started to roll in, and Jon began to scramble. “Think we should try it now?”</p>
<p>“Reckon we should-"</p>
<p>Jon wavered between the two of them, clearly confused. “Whatever you’re planning, I refuse-"</p>
<p>But the two had already started enthusiastically counting off, lifting him a few feet in the air in time with a gleeful “Whee!” Jon screeched and pedaled his feet wildly, but soon found himself planted safely in the sand, unharmed by the water. “<em>Oh.” </em></p>
<p>“Aw, he liked it!” Tim teased and Jon regained his cool enough to scowl at the man. “God, I hope Sasha was filming that.”</p>
<p>“No! Martin, tell her to stop!” Jon attempted to keep watch over the waves and also rear his head back; this was unsuccessful.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry,” Martin calmly replied. “I’ll take care of it.” He turned around to wave her off, but as soon as Jon’s gaze slipped he changed his hand to a thumbs up, which Sasha returned.</p>
<p>“Can you swim, Jon?” Tim asked casually, in a clear attempt to calm the man down. “We won’t take you out if you can’t. We’re not <em> that </em>evil.”</p>
<p>“I can swim!” Jon replied, offended. “Just not…well. I don’t like the cold.”</p>
<p>“It really could be worse, Jon,” Martin said. “It’s rather temperate today-"</p>
<p>“It <em> could </em> be worse,” Tim agreed. “We could be at <em> work. </em>”</p>
<p>“Good to get out of those dusty old archives-"</p>
<p>
  <em> “Martin.” </em>
</p>
<p>“Air down there gets awful stuffy-"</p>
<p>“<em>Tim! </em>”</p>
<p>“Nice to have one spook-free day, really.”</p>
<p>“No Elias, no life-threatening situations.”</p>
<p>“<em>Wait, there’s-"</em></p>
<p>“Can you say the first part again?”</p>
<p>“What? Oh- No Elias!”</p>
<p>“Music to my ears, that is.”</p>
<p>"<em>Tim! Martin!</em>  There’s a wave-"</p>
<p><em> Ah. Too late</em>.</p>
<p>The wave crashed into them with a startling ferocity, shocking both Tim and Martin. It managed to avoid submerging the two completely, but they were still left sputtering at the spray of salty water in their eyes.</p>
<p>The same couldn’t be said for Jon, who was currently hacking like a cat with a hairball.</p>
<p>They’d managed to hold him upright, but hadn’t been able to keep him above water. His hair fell in damp waves over his face and shoulders as he shook his head like a wet dog, coughing out water while Martin worriedly thumped his back. Tim tried to help through tears of laughter, but only succeeded in tangling his hair further. The whole scene was downright adorable and completely pathetic; judging but the uproarious laughter they could hear from shore, the others definitely agreed.</p>
<p>“S-sorry boss,” he moved to grab Jon at his waist, hoisting the man over his shoulders and ignoring his protests. “Didn’t see that one there. Let’s go dry you off.”</p>
<p>“You <em> promised </em>-"</p>
<p>“I know, I know! Can’t control Mother Nature though, can we, Martin?”</p>
<p>Martin was eyeing Jon sympathetically, but Tim could tell he was as amused at the situation as he was. “Sorry, sorry! We’ll take you right back, I swear. Maybe we can get some ice cream, hmm?” he cajoled, coaxing a reluctant smile out of the man currently hanging upside down off of Tim’s shoulder.</p>
<p>“<em>Fine, </em>” was the hacked out reply, and Tim and Martin shared a secret smile.</p>
<p>“Good idea, Marto! Ice cream fixes everything.”</p>
<p>“I’m going to fire you both.”</p>
<p>“Don’t think that’s possible, actually.”</p>
<p>“Well, I <em> hate </em>you both.”</p>
<p>“That’s a lie and you know it,” Martin replied easily.</p>
<p>A grunt and two more coughs. Silence, and then a low mumble.</p>
<p>“<em>I</em><em> know. </em>”</p>
<p>A truce.</p>
<p>The sun beat down mercilessly, high in the sky and promising at least a few more happy hours.</p>
<p>They had time.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey, don't you have another multi-chapter fic that you need to edit and seven hurt/comfort week prompts to work on? You bet! Am I still gonna upload something else entirely? Absolutely.</p>
<p>Short and sweet. Let me know if you liked!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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